The White Queen of Mordor
by Belethil
Summary: The heir of Mordor, cursed and separated from Elrond at the Last Alliance, must ensure the Fellowship’s destruction of the One Ring if she is to see Elrond again. Please read and review. No slash material, and yes, everyone is in it, even Haldir.
1. Arrival

This is a pretty dark and angsty love story in the end, and I hope you enjoy.Please note, though, that I am not looking to stick directly and totally with the Tolkien time line of events and ways. It just wouldn't be fanfiction, otherwise. Please read and review. belethil@winterchill.com  
  
Disclaimer: I only own those I have created.  
  
To say it had been a long ride would have been quite the understatement. It had been a two day  
  
ride with no rest for her to make it to the forests of Lorien at a hard gallop. It wasn't until she could  
  
catch sight of the lights of Caras Galadon that she leaned back upon her great black mare,  
  
slowing her to an easy canter. She had heard a soft whistle many miles back, and knew she had  
  
been watched since she even neared the forests. As the lights began to brighten her way, she  
  
nudged her mare to the left, finally stepping onto a well trodden main path, and slowed to a walk.  
  
Almost instantly, she heard the quiet rustling about her and stopped. She pushed back her hood  
  
and looked to her left. "Melda Haldir." Several elves appeared from the trees about her. "Tarcil."  
  
She smiled softly and shifted slightly, watching as Haldir approached her, running a hand along  
  
the mare's neck as he studied her. "It has been several years.......it is quite the pleasure to see  
  
you again." He paused, stepping back as she moved to dismount. The two days ride took its toll  
  
then, her knees buckling as her feet hit the ground. Haldir caught her before she landed forward  
  
upon the ground and steadied her. "I would think well you'd like to rest......you seem quite  
  
spent....." She laughed softly, leaning upon him as she stretched her legs. "After a bit.....I would  
  
see Galadriel before rest would find me....there is much that I need to hear I'm sure." He nodded,  
  
suddenly solemn and walked quietly next to her toward Caras Geladon, the other elves melding  
  
back into the forest.  
  
It was still somewhat early in the evening, and thus many were about to witness her arrival. She  
  
had visited here many times and was well known here...just not in some time. Haldir drifted  
  
behind her at one point as she walked amidst the trees, seemingly intent upon her destination.  
  
She stopped finally, and Haldir came to stand at her shoulder. She found Galadriel and Celeborn  
  
seated peacefully in the clearing, both turning to her as she bowed slightly. Galadriel rose first,  
  
briefly embracing her. "Queen Sycha....it is good that you have come so quickly." She only  
  
nodded and embraced Celeborn as well. "I am no queen, Galadriel...do not name me as such."  
  
Galadriel walked over to the great mare and ran a hand over her neck. "You are, Sycha, you will  
  
need to face that soon. The ring has been found." Several moments passed before it sunk in to  
  
her. Sycha visibly paled, her voice suddenly cracked as she took a step toward her. "Found?"  
  
Celeborn motioned slightly and turned away from the clearing. "Come, Sycha, there are some  
  
that you would need to meet. They would better tell you what you desire.....and Legolas would  
  
have other news of interest to you." Sycha was silent and followed Celeborn.  
  
Galadriel hummed softly as they descended along a path, coming to a set of massive mallorn  
  
trees, where, upon walking around, served as a sort of restful shelter for a myriad group of  
  
individuals Sycha did not recognize. Celeborn moved away silently, taking her mare where she  
  
would feed and rest, and Galadriel moved toward the group, leaving Haldir to stand at Sycha's  
  
shoulder. Haldir motioned slightly to one fair haired individual, and Sycha's brow knitted in  
  
confusion. "Legolas?!" With only a whisper, Legolas sat up instantly, his head whipping around to  
  
fix upon Sycha. After a moment, he rose to his feet, blinking. He bowed deeply to her, glad to see  
  
her well. She shook her head and took a step forward. "It has been much time, Legolas since you  
  
have been home...I had not known where you had gone, though your father assured me you  
  
were well....and please, you owe me no honor." He still bowed to her, coming back up slowly.  
  
"Whether now or soon, you are still the rightful and good queen of Mordor." She pressed her eyes  
  
closed at that, missing Aragorn's eyes flying open, his head turning to watch the scene unfold  
  
here. Galadriel placed a hand upon Sycha's shoulder and motioned to the slumbering figures.  
  
"These are the eight, formerly nine, named the fellowship by Lord Elrond in Rivendell.....our  
  
friend Gandalf has currently fallen into shadow, and that is all. The little one called Frodo bears  
  
the ring. He lays there." Galadriel motioned to the small hobbit's sleeping form, unaware that he  
  
was being spoke of. "They travel to Mordor, that much you know....and the ring will be destroyed  
  
in the fires of Mordor." Galadriel turned her attention fully to Sycha. "I would leave you to your  
  
decision of joining them......but in the meantime, I leave you to your memories." Galadriel left  
  
from the clearing then, and Sycha turned back to Legolas. Haldir remained as well. Legolas  
  
pulled from an inner pocket a wrapped cloth, bearing it toward her. In this time, Aragorn watched  
  
through slitted eyes, listening intently. Legolas pressed the bundle into her hands, closing her  
  
fingers over it and finally speaking quietly to her in Elvish. "Lord Elrond bids this to you in the  
  
greatest of love...that it lend you some small strength to overcome the pain of the past, the pain  
  
of the future, and bear you back into his arms." Aragorn's eyes opened fully at this, puzzled at  
  
Legolas' words. She unwrapped the bundle handed to her and withdrew a rather simple circlet, by  
  
elvish standards. An almost unnatural whine elicited from her throat as she ran a finger over it.  
  
Aragorn began to sit up, stirring Boromir, who lay next to him. After a long moment, Sycha's head  
  
came up, and Legolas was startled by the raw pain in her eyes, tears instantly glistening on her  
  
lashes. "Tell me, dearest Legolas,.....How......is Lord Elrond?" Her voice cracked horribly, yet  
  
she stood composed, almost regal. Legolas glanced over her shoulder to Haldir, who looked  
  
away. "He is well. He...." Legolas paused, watching the tears sliding down her cheeks. "He  
  
misses you terribly." It brought the smallest of smiles from her, amidst her pain, but brought her  
  
down. She dropped to her knees hard, faster than Haldir could catch her. A sudden wail from  
  
deep within her succeeded in waking those who were still asleep, causing them to jump from their  
  
slumber. Legolas and Haldir both knelt to the ground with her, trying in vain to console her. She  
  
clutched the circlet to her chest, doubled over, and sobbed with all of the pent up pain and  
  
desolation she had felt for the past three thousand years. Haldir murmured to her softly in elvish  
  
as Legolas cradled her head, waiting with a compassionate patience for this to pass. Aragorn had  
  
since risen, motioning Boromir and the little ones to silence. For many minutes this went on, and  
  
Legolas let Haldir take her, enveloping her in his arms as she held to him, sobbing into his chest.  
  
It seemed almost disrespectful to do anything other than let her be. In time, her crying lessened,  
  
and she was left with a blinding numbness. Haldir stroked her hair softly, hearing the slight  
  
movement behind him of the others now awake. Aragorn had studied her as he had lain listening,  
  
and could not place where she might have come from, but there was something unspeakably  
  
familiar about her. She wore a style of gown he had not seen elsewhere and a heavy black cloak  
  
of elvish design. She bore no weapons, uncommon for any traveler. But it was really her hair that  
  
stuck out. It was a deep, dark red. Not a bright red, as he had seen before in other lands, but a  
  
dark red, as though of autumn or maybe a berry. He remembered reading of one with that color  
  
hair, and he couldn't quite place---- . "Who is she, Legolas?" The loud whisper came from behind,  
  
from Boromir, who simply would not wait any longer. The elf shot him a look and glanced up at  
  
Aragorn. In a harried and muffled voice, they heard her speak. "I am the daughter of Mirrana  
  
Neroal...." After a moment, Boromir shrugged. "That means nothing to me." She pulled her head  
  
up and pushed her hair back. "I know that would mean nothing to any of you....save the  
  
elves...for they are the only ones who have written of me or my mother.....Mirrana Neroal was  
  
the daughter of Nienna, one of the Immortal Aratar, also the Valar." Sycha paused and sat back  
  
upon her heels, slowly composing herself. Legolas drew away as Haldir helped her to her feet  
  
and she turned to face those who had woken. It seemed as she did, that Aragorn knew her. He  
  
bowed slightly and nodded, as though to himself. "You're mother is the unnamed one....the one  
  
who betrayed the elves.....which if I remember right, makes you Sycha Mirrana, the white queen  
  
of Mordor who was cursed by your mother and the dark Lord Sauron at the War of the Last  
  
Alliance." This obviously did not sit well with Boromir, whose hand slid to the hilt of his sword. The  
  
hobbits remained still and silent, simply listening. Sycha grimaced and nodded slightly, dropping  
  
back down to the ground, her skirts billowing out perfectly around her as she curled her legs  
  
beneath her. "From that as well as your friend's obvious discomfort at your words, if I am to gain  
  
any trust from the group of you, I will tell you the truth of the story, as the elves of the years have  
  
been compassionate enough to write of." She heard a hushed sound from Haldir as well as the  
  
guarded expression from Legolas and she shrugged. "It has been told so many times  
  
before....and I have told it enough as well....I will make it through....and I feel they have a right to  
  
know." 


	2. The Tale Begins

Disclaimer: I only own those that I have created.  
  
Aragorn briefly introduced the others, and Sycha glanced over at Legolas, who looked at her  
  
sadly, visibly distressed that she need to retell a tale that would cause her so much pain. She  
  
forced a small smile to him, to console him. That she was well known to elves, they had always  
  
taken such great care of her in any way. She brought that smile to Boromir, who regarded her  
  
darkly, almost warily. The others simply waited. "I will start with my mother. You need not know  
  
any more of Nienna than grief and mourning are her province, and that she also teaches great  
  
pity and endurance. For this, I owe her much. She was also one of the queens of the Valar. My  
  
mother was originally Mir and came to middle earth around the time that Olorin, whom you know  
  
as Gandalf, also came to middle earth. My mother became Mirrana Neroal. My mother was naive  
  
in her travels, and believed that the world was far purer than it was. I do not know of what she did,  
  
but I digress. She told me once, not long before I fled, that she had met Sauron while she was  
  
riding through these forests. But by then, my mother's mind had long since gone, and she spoke  
  
much that did not quite make sense. Sauron seduced my mother well, and melded her into  
  
exactly what he wanted. My mother was lonely and wanted only for affection and companionship,  
  
like a pet does to its master. Sauron recognized this and baited her with this. He fawned over her,  
  
using her for anything she was worth to him. But, she was blind to this, and she loved him  
  
desperately in her own demented way, and did anything to make him happy. He hurt her as much  
  
as he could without making her realize that he was; he twisted her mind." She stopped for a  
  
moment, staring at the ground, a shadow passing across her features. Sam leaned forward and  
  
asked quietly, "Is it possible that he loved her at all?"  
  
She looked up sharply, and considered it for  
  
a moment. "Maybe in some twisted form, he was fond of her, but no, I don't think he loved her in  
  
the way that we would think of it…….there was a small time where I think my mother had some  
  
clarity, and that was that few years after I was born. I will not talk of my time in Barad-dur, for I still  
  
sleep darkly upon the memories of that place; I fled finally. I feared him, and I knew my mother  
  
offered no protection. He showed little interest in me other than to taunt me or to frighten me until  
  
I began to show some potential for having power. He approached me one day, while I was in the  
  
tower and spoke to me. I do not remember anything of which he said, for I could only concentrate  
  
upon the coldness I felt as he stared down at me. I fled immediately after he left me. I was sixteen  
  
at the time. I took his horse, of which I was afraid of, but my extended time in the forests had  
  
given me much knowledge with animals, so that I was able to befriend even his great steed. But,  
  
this was both a curse and a blessing. I knew nothing of the outside, nor what was to await me. I  
  
had never seen elves, or dwarves, or anything beyond the forests around Mordor. I simply  
  
rode….as fast and as far as I could. I do not know for how long I rode before I was stopped...."  
  
She glanced over to where Haldir sat near her. "I was stopped by Haldir and others that were  
  
guarding these forests. I did not heed when they called to me for I did not understand what they  
  
spoke. I was shot from the steed's back by an arrow through my shoulder. They knew Sauron's  
  
steed, but not me. I was brought before Celeborn and Galadriel then, and told them my story. I  
  
told them who I was and who my mother was. It had been many years since they had seen my  
  
mother. Apparently, when they had known her, before she had gone with Sauron, she had been a  
  
teacher, a learned one who taught of the world, of nature and it's blessings. I knew they spoke  
  
the truth and I briefly wished I would have known her then. For several days, I was watched  
  
closely, and Sauron's horse fled back, to Mordor and his master. It was decided that I could not  
  
stay in Lorien, for I would bring only the threat of danger and attack. Galadriel talked at length to  
  
me on this, to make me understand that they would not abandon me, and why they would take  
  
me from here. It was awkward at first. I was intimidated by her, and by all of the elves. There was  
  
such a kindness….and a compassion I had never experienced. Lorien was beyond any beauty I  
  
could have even concocted in my own mind, having only ever lived in the darkness of Mordor and  
  
the half-dead forests around the tower….it still is. Haldir and several others bore me away the  
  
next morning, telling me naught of where we were going. In those days that we traveled, I learned  
  
much of the elves from Haldir, and much of the world that existed outside of Mordor. I also  
  
learned that I need not fear everything that I faced. I was taken to Lindon, where Haldir told my  
  
story in the kingdom of Gil-Galad, the last of the High Kings of Noldor. Gil-Gilad took pity upon me  
  
and took me in under his realm's protection. I was frightened, and again, intimidated. I knew little  
  
of immortality or death, or life for that matter, for I had had so few real conversations with my  
  
mother, and even fewer with my father."  
  
She stopped then, and wiped at her eyes. She cried  
  
silently for a few moments before continuing. "Gil-Gilad spent much time with me over the  
  
following months, telling me of life and answering my questions. He was more of a father to me  
  
than I had had in the past. I learned of what my lineage meant and what power I had. I told him of  
  
Mordor and of my father and mother. I told him everything that I knew. It was then that he told me  
  
of the alliance between himself and Elendil and what they were to do. He had said it to me in  
  
hesitation, as though he half-expected me to run then, maybe back to Mordor and betray him. I  
  
then said I would help if I could. I knew little of my own power, but was slowly coming to grasp it  
  
and feel it. He accepted that and left the next day to Gondor, to speak of me to Elendil. The eve  
  
before he left, he brought me to a glade out of the way, to talk to me. There were two elven riders  
  
there, on white horses. 'There are those who are not fond of you, dear Sycha,' he said, 'and there  
  
are those would wish you much ill, even as good as the elves of Lindon are. You are the daughter  
  
of the dark lord Sauron and the unnamed one, and that burns hatred in some for the pain and  
  
sorrow he has caused. In time, they will grow to love you, but that will take much time. I must go  
  
to Gondor and I would fear to take you for men would have much less compassion for you. You  
  
cannot stay in my houses while I am gone. You will be safe, though, for I give you ample  
  
protection.' He presented me to Elrond Peredhil and did not immediately name the other. 'He will  
  
care for you in my absence, and you need not fear him. He will cause you no ill.' 


	3. Through the war

Disclaimer: I only own those I have created  
  
Gil-Galad bid me farewell kindly and left quickly, and even with his words, I was still fearful. I  
  
stood dumbly and stared at the ground, until the other elf dismounted and approached me. He  
  
stopped near me and I finally summoned the courage to look up at him. He regarded me  
  
thoughtfully and after a bit, he came near and touched my hair. He told me he had not ever seen  
  
hair of my color and told me to look up. I did and he smiled slightly. 'Green eyes' was all he said  
  
before he stepped away from me. I remember Lord Elrond dismounting then and coming over to  
  
me. I became scared then, for I am obviously quite shorter than most elves, and though I had  
  
become comfortable with Gil-Gilad, my fear and discomfort in myself was what was foremost right  
  
then. I feared that Gil-Galad had made an error and that harm was about to befall me. Lord  
  
Elrond scowled at the other and motioned toward me. 'You will make her needlessly fearful, and  
  
she has been through enough….and we've still quite a ride to go yet,' he said. He turned to me  
  
fully and leaned over, that he could look in my eyes. I remember his voice being quite soft, and  
  
filled with kindness. 'He is Glorfindel, and he does not mean to cause you unrest. You will be safe  
  
and well where we will take you.' There was something in the fact that he met my eyes with his  
  
own with such reassurance that I instantly trusted him. He took my hand in his, lifting me to his  
  
horse, and took me to my new home.' Some time during that ride, I asked him quietly where he  
  
was taking me, and he answered only, 'Rivendell' of which he had founded with the help of Gil-  
  
Galad and the ring of power, Vilya."  
  
  
  
She paused and looked up. The four little ones seemed intent upon hanging on every word, as  
  
did Gimli, startled she had stopped. Boromir seemed less wary now, thoughtfully staring at her.  
  
After a few moments of silence, Pippin waved a hand. "Well, don't stop! The story can't possibly  
  
stop there…!" She smiled sadly at them and nodded. "While I had thought Gil- Galad would come  
  
for me in a short while, he did not. The War of the Last Alliance took seven years to pan out; to.  
  
Rivendell became my haven. Many others resided there, but I paid them little heed, as they did to  
  
me. I was not very noticeable for a time or so, as I was still considered mostly a child and never  
  
really stayed near the buildings. Glorfindel had quite a stable of horses; and I had become quite  
  
fond of them. I spent much time riding the lands within the boundaries of Rivendell. There were  
  
many havens where the waterfalls flowed into riverlets. They brought me much peace and I spent  
  
many days walking amongst them. It was in this time that I came to know what power I  
  
possessed. I found I had much power over the elements, and I worked to master what I knew. But  
  
it was also in this time that I came to know Lord Elrond well. He was gone some of the time with  
  
the war, for he was the steward of Gil-Galad, and a great warrior. The time he spent in Rivendell  
  
he always spent with me. He taught me much that I might have known had I grown up with love  
  
and friendship. He rode with me often, telling me Elvish stories of old, or telling me of the plants  
  
or flowers that I would point out in the forests. When he would leave again, there were some  
  
maidens who would tease me of the time we spent together, and I would never understand why.  
  
  
  
They never would mean any harm by it, for they saw what I did not when he looked at me. I knew  
  
nothing of that kind of love, I knew only the kindness and compassion a father shows a beloved  
  
child. He returned again during the sixth year to see me, for he stated that when he arrived. We  
  
had dinner that evening, alone, and after, he drew me out onto the balcony. He told me of how  
  
the war fared, and I became angry, for word of my father's overbearing power always drew forth a  
  
buried rage from me. I cursed Sauron and my mother, in the language of Mordor, and Elrond had  
  
studied me then, for there were few in Rivendell who knew the black speech, and none who  
  
would dare use it. I had asked him why he looked at me, and he answered me in the black  
  
speech, saying that he never wanted that language uttered in Rivendell. I became frightened, for  
  
none who had ever cared for me had ever chastised me, but then, I had never given them cause  
  
to. I fell to my knees before him, and sobbed. I begged him for his forgiveness. He pulled me to  
  
my feet then and embraced me, telling me he was not angry at all, but that words in that speech  
  
made many uncomfortable. He had cupped my face in his hands and smiled down at me, to  
  
reassure me, and I suddenly found myself staring into his eyes….so close to him. For many  
  
moments, we stood that way, and I became enraptured with the way he was staring at  
  
me….there was such love and adoration there. The warmth of his breath upon my face had  
  
started to create a most unfamiliar feeling, and I became increasingly understanding of why the  
  
maidens had teased me so. I felt undone before his stare, and I found myself suddenly  
  
whispering of what the maidens told me……as I rambled on, he placed a finger upon my lips to  
  
stop me and asked me if I believed them. I did not know how to answer him and he brushed his  
  
lips across my forehead. 'They are very observant, the ones who tell you such things, my dear  
  
Sycha' he whispered to me.  
  
  
  
I was confused as to what I felt then, and I suddenly asked him if I loved him. It sounds silly as I  
  
say it now, but it made perfect sense then. I did not technically know what love was, and in the  
  
confusion of my life, I was still a bit left out, even with the patience and the wisdom of the elves. I  
  
remember his lips brushing my forehead again as he said he did not know the answer to  
  
that….that only I could know that. I had not known what to say back to him then, and he finally  
  
leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. It did not take more than a moment for me to fall  
  
eagerly into his arms, and he soon drew me back within to his chambers." She stopped for a  
  
moment, and when it seemed she would not continue, Gimli grunted. "Come, girl, continue. You  
  
tell a good tale and I've energy to hear the rest of it." She smiled quietly and shifted, bringing her  
  
legs from beneath her and crossing them out. "Then I will….I shan't tell tale of that night, but upon  
  
the next morning, as my head lay cradled against his chest and we lay beneath the blankets of  
  
his bed, I heard him ask me softly if I should know the answer to my question. I needed no time to  
  
think before I whispered 'yes' and told him for that first time that I loved him. He murmured softly  
  
to me then, for some time, of his love for me, and of my beauty, of which I had not ever noticed of  
  
myself. Elrond remained in Rivendell for eight months after that, and so very rarely did he leave  
  
my side. But word was wafting in of my father's power again, and I grew increasingly restless with  
  
that fact. That my father was causing such discontent within those I had come to treasure and  
  
love angered me greatly. Gil-Gilad was returning and we traveled then, to meet with him. He was  
  
greatly interested in how I had fared and upon my appearance, he appeared no less than  
  
stunned. I had changed from the timid and fearful young girl to a now angered and strong woman.  
  
Elrond's guidance and love had influenced me and shaped me, and knowledge of my father's  
  
still-cruel reign fired my veangeful stance. I wanted no more than to join that march, that I would  
  
be able to face him and my mother. This was frowned upon by nearly everyone, but I would not  
  
give in to any reason and as the day drew near that Elrond was to leave again, Gil-Gilad threw up  
  
his hands as Lord Elrond stood beside him as we had finished a morning meal, regarding me with  
  
sorrow, and gave me what I wanted. I had turned on my heel, without even a thank you and left  
  
quickly, to go to Glorfindel and find a horse I might rely upon to carry me. Elrond caught my arm  
  
as I walked quickly from the building and stopped me. For a moment, the bitter anger that had  
  
since filled me upon hearing of my parent's atrocities again fled me and left me with a numbing  
  
emptiness and a need for consolement. I flung myself into his arms and he held me for a time,  
  
until I was able to pull myself together. When I looked up to him finally, he smiled a most kind  
  
smile and kissed me, telling me that it would be over soon, and that we would return when it was  
  
over, and I would not need to fret so ever again. I know he did not believe what he said, but it  
  
calmed me. He had then threaded this into my hair," Sycha looked down upon the silver circlet  
  
she held. "and said that upon our return, we would be wed; that for the rest of the immortal years,  
  
he would never let harm befall me, that he would never leave my side. He spoke for some time,  
  
and I cried, for I did not know what was to come, and I was fearful. We kissed again, before I left  
  
to see Glorfindel, and I murmured of my love to him. That was the last time I felt his arms around  
  
me and the warmth of his breath upon my face as he whispered to me." 


	4. The Last Alliance

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She trailed off for a moment, and brought her hands to her face, crying softly for some time. She  
  
finally wiped at her eyes, and sighed to herself, her fingers absently fiddling with two rings on her  
  
right hand. "I joined Elrond and Gil-Gilad on the ride back to the armies. Gil-Gilad's words to me  
  
as we rode of men's lack of acceptance of my lineage rang true when we arrived, as I was  
  
shunned badly by the men. At that time, there was only a couple of months left of the war, and I  
  
suffered each day avoiding the men, for not only did they view me as a threat, but they were  
  
simply cruel to me. But they did listen to Gil-Gilad and Elrond, and for the most part, left me be.  
  
The alliance eventually broke down Sauron's forces, and on that last day, I came to finally face  
  
my mother in battle. I had seen her once or twice during those months, and I know she had seen  
  
me. Sauron was struck down, as all know, by Isildur, and as Sauron fell, my mother ran from  
  
Barad-dur in vain toward the scene. I rode forward, and cut off her flight. She laughed then, as  
  
though she could not believe that I still lived. I slid from my horse's back and faced her, with an  
  
elven sword, and she laughed all the more, cursing the elves and the men, crassly describing  
  
things I will not speak of here. I spat at her and swung at her blindly, my anger overbearing my  
  
good sense. It was then that she saw the circlet I wore, and her laughing ceased, and she held  
  
out her hands at me, and began waving and muttering. I surged forth to try and stop her, but my  
  
swing was too late. She had uttered a curse that still stands today. She had uttered it in the black  
  
speech of Mordor, in the last of her power before I beheaded her, sending her from these lands.  
  
She had seen me with Elrond during the months of the war of the last alliance, and she had  
  
pieced it all together. With Sauron struck down, she knew she was next, and she had muttered of  
  
her belief that I had brought all of this upon them; that this war was my doing solely.  
  
  
  
Her curse was that so long as Sauron's power could exist, I would not know the touch of my love;  
  
his touch would cause me the pain of a piercing sword. I did not think anything of her words, for I  
  
had not thought that her curse would ring true. She had died easily enough, a beheading and a  
  
point from groin to throat had ended it quickly, and I spat upon her corpse, for all of the hatred  
  
and anger she had caused me….for bringing me into a world and abandoning me to the darkness  
  
of Barad-dur and its creatures because she was not strong enough to believe in anything else.  
  
She fell…." Sycha stopped herself when Legolas took hold of her arm, hushing her. The red flush  
  
in her cheeks had dangerously deepened, and she rose, shaking her arms out and breathing.  
  
"I….am sorry…." She forced herself to calm and closed her eyes. "I spat upon my mother's  
  
corpse and left her, searching for those I knew. Elrond had taken Isildur into Barad-dur, to destroy  
  
the ring of power. Had that succeeded, I would have never known there had been a curse, for it  
  
would have been destroyed with the ring. But…..it was not. As it is said by elves, the hearts of  
  
men are weak. Isildur backed away from Elrond as he bade him to throw the ring into the fires of  
  
Orodruin, for he was weak, and his desire for power strong, and he took the ring away from there  
  
with him. He fled from there, before Elrond could catch him, and was gone. While this happened,  
  
I had found Glorfindel, bent over the body of Gil-Gilad, who had fallen in battle, and could not be  
  
saved. I cried over his body, for the kindness and compassion he had given me; for the life he  
  
had given me the chance of; and for giving me over to Elrond. It was not until Glorfindel pulled  
  
me up that I thought on anything else.  
  
  
  
Elrond was approaching on horseback, coming back from the fires of Orodruin. He slid from his  
  
horse's back before the horse had even slowed and I rushed to him, thankful he was well and for  
  
the most part, unscathed. In my eyes, all was done. I thought at that point, my parents power was  
  
gone. I did not know the ring still remained, nor did I know that it mattered. It was then that I fell  
  
into his arms, and a blinding light exploded behind my eyes as a pain coarsed through my body  
  
greater than anything I could have ever imagined. I fell back from him and screamed horribly.  
  
When I was able to recover, I pieced it together when Elrond recounted that the ring still existed.  
  
There was a horrified silence as he knelt down where I had fallen and I winced painfully when his  
  
hand nearly rested upon mine. Glorfindel murmured something softly and I could do no more than  
  
stare up at him. My mother's curse had stuck well, and the realization of what she had just taken  
  
from me left me empty and numb. I clawed my way to my feet and ran from him, to my horse, and  
  
fled Mordor, taking what I guessed would be the way to Gondor. I was not welcome there as you  
  
might have guessed, and I took my chances in trying to find Isildur. It was a battle I could not  
  
have ever hoped to win, but I tried. I begged of him and told him of what the existence of that ring  
  
was causing. Isildur laughed at me, calling me 'Mordor's whore' and 'Sauron's bastard bitch'. He  
  
mocked me, telling me that I only wanted the ring for myself…..to carry on my father's throne of  
  
tyranny. It was then that I told him that I could never want the ring for myself, for I could not even  
  
carry the ring myself. I carry the golden ring's sister, the last sane thing my mother had done  
  
when Sauron had created the ring of power deep in the hole of Orodruin. She knew what that  
  
would mean in the end somehow, and she disappeared for several days then, and found  
  
Celebrimbor, and pleaded with him to create something to combat Sauron's evil. This was several  
  
years before my birth.  
  
  
  
Together, they created a white ring in silver, and bestowed everything that she had once been, a  
  
creature of love and compassion. A ring that would hold together the power of the three elven  
  
rings to combat Sauron's evil. She had hung it from my neck when I was born, and I don't believe  
  
Sauron ever knew of it. I don't believe anyone ever knew of it's existence until I told it to Isildur,  
  
for it appears just as the golden one does, a simple golden band until it is brought to fire. Maybe  
  
Elrond did, I'm not sure. He seemed to know much more than even I did. Mine will only shine in  
  
full moonlight the language written upon it, as the other would shine in the fire. Where the golden  
  
one gives power over the minds of men and such, mine will give power over the elements….of  
  
either I am not sure which would be considered more powerful. But I have worn mine always, and  
  
the power has become me. I was born with great power, and the ring has only shaped and  
  
refined it, or maybe I have helped to shape the ring, I am not sure, but the ring is me now. I have  
  
come to understand this over the many years, and maybe my mother had created it initially to  
  
protect me, knowing that those she had once helped would help me and bound a power within it  
  
to help them as well. But this was well a mistake to tell it to men, least of all Isildur. He became  
  
lecherous, and demanded I give him the ring. I knew then that there was little hope of his  
  
understanding what he had done. I left Gondor quickly, and returned to Rivendell, where Elrond  
  
awaited me. It was the most painful morning I have ever endured. I could not remain in Rivendell,  
  
for I could not live being in his presence without any hope of his embrace, or even a whisper of a  
  
touch. He begged me to remain, that something would be figured out, and I left, without any more  
  
words. I could not bear the pain in my heart nor the pain I would cause him by being there. " 


	5. In Hope

Disclaimer: I only own those I have created  
  
Sycha stopped and looked up, pain showing plainly upon her features. She fingered the circlet  
  
she held, and looked over at the audible sniffle. Pippin wiped at his nose, and she fixed him with  
  
a peculiar look. He waved a hand and shook his head. "Don't mind me….so sad…..where did you  
  
go?" She sighed softly and looked around. "I came here….for I did not know where else to go.  
  
Haldir and his men met me as I entered the forests, and by their look, I knew that what had  
  
happened was already known. He bowed to me respectfully and accompanied me the rest of the  
  
way, silent. Galadriel and Celeborn were sympathetic, and I stayed here for some time, desolate,  
  
for I spoke very little, and stayed to myself." She shrugged almost to herself and Sam spoke then.  
  
"I'm confused……" Her brows knitted, and she cocked her head. "What about?" Sam looked as  
  
though he were sorting through some complex problem. "Well, when were your children born?"  
  
She smiled sadly. "Ahh….they are not born of me. They were born of Elrond's marriage to  
  
Celebrian, the only daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel……for there was no reason for him to live  
  
forever alone as I would be. But she was captured by orcs one day as she rode, and when  
  
rescued by her sons, never recovered from the madness she endured. She crossed the seas at  
  
that, and that is all of her I know." Sam looked over at Pippin and Merry, who seemed distressed  
  
at the whole story. "But….that's not a happy ending, as all story's should end…..do you still love  
  
him?"  
  
  
  
Sycha smiled slightly and nodded. "Of course, else I would not be here…..he has written often to  
  
me, and I to him. I left the forests of Lorien after a time, and in riding through the forests of  
  
Mirkwood, I met Thranduil, our great Legolas' father, king of Mirkwood. He knew well of my tale,  
  
and invited me to stay in Mirkwood. As I had no where else to go, I was well thankful for his offer.  
  
In the many years it has been, the only communication I have been able to have with Elrond have  
  
been through our letters. They began when Elrond's sons Elrohir and Elladan arrived in Mirkwood  
  
unannounced on a snowy winter evening. Thranduil had to come for me, for I would always sit  
  
near the falls that were a bit away from Mirkwood. He did not tell me why, but the two of them had  
  
bowed deeply when I had neared and would not rise until I bade them to. Thranduil left us then  
  
and Elrohir came forward and embraced me. I did know of them, but there was a familiarity of the  
  
two of them in their eyes. Elladan handed to me a thick ream of parchment, tied with a ribbon.  
  
'Our father has told us much of you, Sycha Mirrana', he said to me. It was then I realized they  
  
were Elrond's sons. I was incredulous and did not quite understand, for I had not thought it  
  
reasonable that Elrond would tell his children of another woman besides their mother. But they  
  
motioned that we retire inside and for that evening, they told me of how they had come to know of  
  
me. Elrond's love for Celebrian was noticeably not that of enduring adoration. He grew to love her  
  
more as a sister than anything, and she proved to be a good companion, but she knew she would  
  
not take my place, and never even tried.  
  
  
  
She had been the one to tell them, as well as Arwen, of me, and it was not until Celebrian passed  
  
to the west that they had asked Elrond of me to his face. Elrond told them the entire story, and  
  
while they were the children of another woman, they accepted well and kindly to their father's  
  
dedication to me, which is what brought his sons to find me. Elrond had lost most hope of the  
  
curse ever being broken, and had not known really where I was at that time. His sons had  
  
approached him to write a letter to me, that they would find me. I owe much to his sons, for they  
  
brought me hope as well on that evening that they arrived. It took me time to read his letter, for it  
  
was many pages, and I cried. I cried in sadness and hope, and in my love for him. He spoke  
  
much of things that had happened since I had left, and of his children and their knowledge of me.  
  
He also spoke of you, Aragorn, and of how you have fared in Rivendell. But most of all, he spoke  
  
of the things he missed of me, and I asked many questions to his sons. They spent three days  
  
with me, and I wrote their father my own letter, and sent them back with it. This is the way the  
  
years have gone. I have not seen him in those years for there is little use in the pain it would  
  
cause. I traveled back here on occasion, to see Haldir, who met me always with love and  
  
compassion. He begged me often not to go back, but I had found my comfort in the darker  
  
corners of Mirkwood. Legolas had taken to riding with me as I often did, I think more for the quiet  
  
company I offered than anything. Haldir visited from time to time, for he felt a great pity for me,  
  
having been one of the first to have a dealing in my fate. In this time, the only constant friend I  
  
kept was my horse. The one who had borne me through the war of the last alliance eventually  
  
grew heavy with foal, and as I still do not know who might have been her mate, there are far  
  
darker things in the corners of the forests than even I know of. She bore a strange foal, the mare  
  
that I ride to this day. While elven horses have quite a long life, they are not normally immortal.  
  
The mare I ride today is well over two thousand years old and she is called Morna Lorewen, or  
  
Black DreamMaiden in the common tongue. She is my companion, and she keeps me safe. But  
  
that is all of my tale that I choose to tell of the past. Of present, Elrond's sons brought me the  
  
letter I carry with me now telling of the council and your journey, of which I have quite a vested  
  
interest as you must understand….not ignoring the fact that I might well be of assistance." There  
  
was a small silence before Gimli rose and clapped Sam and Pippin upon the shoulders, nodding  
  
to her. "Well, if I thought ever I had a reason to join you fine people on this journey, why I certainly  
  
have more reason now."  
  
  
  
Sycha smiled sadly and looked over to Haldir, who watched quietly. She rose easily, and bowed  
  
slightly to them. I fear I have taken much of your time to rest with my tale, and I would think you  
  
would well welcome sleep now." Boromir seemed much settled now, from her story, and smiled to  
  
her. "Then, good lady, we welcome you to our journey…..and would not only see the fate of  
  
middle earth sealed in health, but would see you back to good Lord Elrond." Aragorn glanced  
  
back at him, a curious look to him that such words without speculation would come so easily from  
  
him. She bowed again and began to turn. "Then I bid you good night, and an easy rest." She  
  
moved away quickly, and Haldir rose, moving after her. The others remained, and after a rather  
  
uneasy silence and an exchange of glances, it became obvious that indeed, sleep would be the  
  
best thing for all of them. 


	6. Insight

Thanks to all who have written to me with reviews and to those who have reviewed here. It's nice  
  
to know my writing is appreciated. ( belethil@winterchill.com  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Only Morna and Sycha are mine. The others are owned by the great and mighty  
  
Tolkien.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sycha…will you not rest as well?" She stopped for a moment and Haldir walked quickly to catch  
  
her. "I will rest with Morna….I'm quite spent from my ride….." She paused, and suddenly reached  
  
up, caressing his neck lightly. "It is good to see you, Haldir. I had not told you that earlier….would  
  
you….stay with me, please?" He nodded and walked with her to where Morna grazed, swinging  
  
her great head in their direction as they approached. Sycha crooned to her, running a hand over  
  
her nose, placing a soft kiss upon her forehead. Haldir absently rested a hand upon the mare.  
  
"May I ask, Sycha, what you will do if this should not work….if this journey should also fail?"  
  
Sycha did not answer for some time, and finally motioned for him to sit. He did so, and reached  
  
up to her. She dropped down, curling up and laying her head upon his lap. He stroked her hair, as  
  
he had many years earlier when he had escorted her from Lorien to Lindon. It had quickly  
  
become a habit that when they had set down to camp, she would curl up next to him and put her  
  
head in his lap. He would simply stroke her hair, singing softly to her. It had calmed her greatly  
  
and had reinforced that there was indeed kindness in the dark world she had grown up in. He did  
  
not sing now, though. "Haldir?" He pushed her deep red hair back from where it lay across her  
  
face. "Hmm?" Her voice dropped and he leaned over to hear her. "I don't know…..I just don't. It  
  
has been so many years, but there has always been some hope left in me. Elrond's sons gave  
  
that to me in bringing me his letters, and it saved me. It saved me from my maddening sorrow. It  
  
saved me from the depths that I had sunk into after I had reached Mirkwood. I tried to poison  
  
myself many times, but I am not so easily ended……that and Thranduil and Legolas kept close  
  
watch over me much of the time. I only succeeded in making myself violently ill much of the time.  
  
Occasionally, I was able to drug myself into a deep sleep where I was gifted with dreams I would  
  
not remember when I woke." She breathed a shuddering sigh, and lay silent for some time. Haldir  
  
continued to stroke her hair softly, offering what little comfort he knew he could. He felt her  
  
shudder after some time, and scowled to himself. He had seen love torn apart before, either  
  
through death or circumstance, and the pain caused thereafter, but never a love so disturbingly  
  
deep and as immortally painful as that between the woman who cried in his lap and the lord of  
  
Rivendell. He had led Elrond's sons through the forests of Lorien the first time they had sought  
  
out Sycha, and it was plain in their eyes that while they felt some of the pain that their father felt,  
  
simply because he was their father, the desperation with which they sought for her spoke  
  
volumes of what their father must feel. Haldir had sent them to Mirkwood in the end, for he knew  
  
that was where she would be. His thoughts came back to present when she turned slightly, and  
  
he realized she had fallen into a fitful sleep. Unfastening his cloak, he pulled it around and laid it  
  
over her, laying back upon the grass himself and fading off into his own sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
"She is asleep, I would beg you to leave her be…." Sycha heard this whispered softly above her,  
  
and lifted her head from the warmth of Haldir's lap. "Celeborn has bade that we join them for the  
  
morning meal…..I came to fetch both of you…" She felt Haldir's hand protectively resting upon  
  
her hair. She pulled herself up, and saw Aragorn on one knee next to her. "I am awake….maybe  
  
not coherent, but I am awake." Haldir scowled slightly at her and rose, fastening his cloak. She  
  
looked up groggily at the fair elf. "Might you be able to tend to Morna this morn?" Haldir smiled  
  
softly and moved away to where the great mare grazed a bit of a distance away. Sycha rubbed at  
  
her eyes and looked to where Aragorn regarded her with a rather undecided look. She folded her  
  
legs before her and looked to the ground. "Do you trust me, Aragorn, heir of Gondor?" Aragorn  
  
cocked his head then, and rose, offering her a hand and helping her to her feet. "I have much  
  
trust in you, for I know you speak the truth. I have read what has been written of you in the books  
  
of the elves, and Elrond has spoken at length of you. It has often seemed to ease the pain in his  
  
heart to simply talk of you and remember you, and it has always touched me. He raised me in  
  
Rivendell, and those who remember you have always spoken of you in a sort of hushed  
  
reverence. I am well met to know you, Lady Sycha Mirrana of Rivendell." She cocked her head at  
  
that. That he would name her of Rivendell was kind, for she fought never to associate herself with  
  
her born land of Mordor, heir or not. She stepped forward and touched his cheek lightly. "Thank  
  
you, Elessar…..your kindness is much welcome…..and words of Lord Elrond bring me much  
  
comfort." She stepped back and smiled up at him graciously. Galadriel had called him that as  
  
well, and he was suddenly taken back by her smile. He had often thought Elrond was simply  
  
being woefully sentimental when he spoke of her beauty and her smile brightening her eyes, but  
  
in truth, her smile was as though starlight had shone through the trees, lighting her deep green  
  
eyes. The evening before, she had had many shadows pass over her face, her sadness and pain  
  
clouding her features. She had seemed almost plain to him as he had watched her speak. But  
  
something had lifted as he told her of Elrond's words of her. Something sparkled in her eyes and  
  
he now understood what Elrond spoke of that he saw in her. Her smile faded and she sighed  
  
softly. "Men have not been kind to me in my many years…..and though you have the kindness of  
  
elves in you, it still means much……you will do the lands well when you are king." He did not  
  
know how to even respond to that, and she moved past him, finding Haldir approaching with  
  
Morna. She crooned softly to the mare and glanced back to Aragorn. "Please….go ahead and tell  
  
Galadriel that I will be along shortly….I wish to speak with Haldir for a moment." Aragorn bowed  
  
slightly and parted without question, leaving the fair elf to stare questioningly down at her. She  
  
continued to stroke the mare's muzzle, speaking again in the language of the elves. "Haldir, I  
  
mean to not join them straightaway." Haldir shrugged after a moment. "I'm not sure what you  
  
mean, dear Sycha." She stepped back from Morna and fixed Haldir with a weary gaze. "I mean to  
  
take Morna and circumvent Rohan and come the way I had come to Lorien in the beginning."  
  
Haldir had begun to shake his head before she finished her words. "Dear Sycha, it is not wise for  
  
you to even consider that. Immortal and powerful though you may be, there are still far many  
  
dangers to await you were you to take those roads. It is not wise to begin with that you would  
  
travel with the Fellowship to the roads of Mordor, but on your own you would surely be overtaken  
  
by orcs or worse." She sighed after a moment and clasped Haldir's hands in her own. "Haldir,  
  
were only that the same blood to flow through our veins, closer to a brother of mine you could  
  
never be. You have been a light in my blinding darkness, moreso than any other save only for my  
  
strong lord Elrond's sons……I draw my power from the forgotten purity of my mother and her  
  
mother's mother Nienna. I have the lithe blood of the elves in my veins as well. The years have  
  
bestowed upon me a firm power over the elements, and there are nether powers that are well  
  
contained in those elements that I grasp power over as well. I may be one, but I know the dark  
  
roads well." Haldir continued to shake his head and leaned over to her. "Sycha, please hear  
  
reason….you may know the dark roads, but your lineage has failed you since before the last  
  
alliance. You are cursed and the creatures of the dark know your scent well. You can be injured  
  
and hurt, dearest, and you can fall into shadow the same as the great Gandalf has……" She  
  
placed a soft kiss upon his cheek and smiled. "Then I shan't let that happen….I mean to return to  
  
my lord Elrond strong and true." This still did not placate Haldir in the least. He gripped her arms  
  
then, glaring into her eyes, seeing no give within her gaze. He finally pulled her forward,  
  
embracing her. "Then, my chosen sister, I shall do no less than accompany you in your travels. If  
  
for no other reason than to resolve my own conscience."  
  
……… 


	7. Rage and Departure

Disclaimer: I own no more than Morna and Sycha. The great Tolkien owns the rest.  
  
Thanks to all who have sent me reviews; I appreciate each and every one and welcome any and all feedback…..belethil@winterchill.com.  
  
  
  
"What does she hope to accomplish by taking a different route?.....a route that leads her only  
  
through treacherous terrain and a far greater threat of attack than if she travels south….the  
  
route that we are taking?" Haldir sighed. True, the idea of her taking a route she had taken by  
  
chance over three thousand years ago was nothing short of folly, considering it would take her  
  
through the Dead Marshes just to make it the Morannon, the Black Gate into Mordor. Haldir  
  
shook his head, glancing around before continuing. Sycha had chosen not to eat with them,  
  
but to continue within and seek Galadriel's handmaidens. She had brought no supplies with  
  
her, and needed clothing to travel such a journey. "Sycha Mirrana has quite a….shall I call it  
  
a…'distaste' for the race of men. Any dealings she has ever had with men have been met with  
  
a violent or rather nasty end….she wishes to take any measure to avoid riding through Rohan  
  
or Gondor." Boromir shook his head at that. "That is foolish….surely she must know that……no  
  
matter what her dealings with men have been in the past, surely she could forgive whatever  
  
has-" "I will forgive nothing, Boromir, eldest son of Steward Denethor II of Gondor." Boromir  
  
was cut off by her words, and silence prevailed over the clearing. Gimli nearly choked upon  
  
the apple he had been eating, and coughed. She stopped as she neared the table, dropping  
  
the two bundles she bore with her to the ground. "Of men I know only disdain and ignorance.  
  
Gil-Gilad had some measure of faith and friendship with men, and I will respect that, but that  
  
means nothing to me. In the time I needed to spend among them, I was berated and ridiculed  
  
as the bitch of Sauron and the whore of Mordor. No word from Elendil or Gil- Gilad or Elrond  
  
would quell those whispers, and I tolerated this as I always will, for I have no choice. The race  
  
of elves has long had compassion for me as only they can, for they have far more insight and  
  
wisdom than any other. In the race of men, this exists in only select few, the fallen Elendil was  
  
one…..but I digress. Who I was born of harbored only a demented hatred and disgust from  
  
most at the Last Alliance, and had I not been watched closely by those who cared, I would  
  
have been taken and used as a common street whore….the groping and mishandling was  
  
something I do not care to ever need to remember." Aragorn winced slightly at that and  
  
glanced over at Boromir, who simply seemed nonplussed at her words. "You can obviously  
  
fight, and from your tale, you are of great power. You cannot fool me to believe that you could  
  
not take care of yourself, even so many years ago. I would think a descendant of a Valar and  
  
the dark lord would well be able to take care of a couple of sniggering men and a fondling  
  
hand or two without the need of a king or such, and without it causing such an emotional  
  
disturbance within you." Pippin and Merry made a hushing sound at Boromir, who shrugged as  
  
though he could not know why his words would disturb her. Aragorn rose and leaned over  
  
him, hushing him in harsh words. She stood rigidly staring at Boromir, and her words were  
  
guarded when she again spoke. "It is quite true I have much fight and power in me, but what  
  
would I have learned from the elves if I chose to strike down those I was to fight with and not  
  
against. To fight against those who fought for middle earth would have sent me to the pits of  
  
Mordor with my parents; I was not that stupid. True, misplaced words and hands would not  
  
have bothered a common street whore or maybe one of your royal ladies of Gondor, but I am  
  
neither, and it has bothered me. You have forgotten that I spent the youngest years of my  
  
existence in the dark corners of Barad-dur….and from there I learned that the action of touch  
  
is not always in kindness. From men, it was not the words or the touch so much but what was  
  
intended….they would have had me dead as soon as look at me, though I had proved my own  
  
intentions in the death of many of Mordor and my own mother. My arrival back to see Isildur  
  
was met with nothing more than risqué jeers and threats upon my body. He, himself, proved  
  
no better…….and you dare ask me, Boromir, man of Gondor, for my idle forgiveness to the  
  
race of men?! Were it not for differing motives, I would sooner see the race of men fall than  
  
help them at all…..but I am given no choice. Take that as you will, for I care not!" They had all  
  
risen as her voice had done, and Gimli moved to stand in front of Boromir, blocking his  
  
advance. Boromir eyed her for a moment, and then laughed. She stood in leggings covered by  
  
soft thigh length boots, and a boned corset that held against her curves. True enough, it was  
  
garb that would allow her full movement for riding, but well invited eager eyes to her body. He  
  
laughed again and made a motion toward her. "Well, were you to be clad like that, who would  
  
stop to think you were anything but a common whore!" Aragorn lunged forward, catching  
  
Boromir by the throat and stopping his move forward. Haldir surged back, catching Sycha by  
  
the waist as she snatched a sword from her feet and preventing her from attacking Boromir.  
  
She began to scream at the steward of Gondor in language of Mordor and Legolas moved to  
  
take the sword from her. Aragorn silenced them all with a bellowed yell. "There will be no  
  
fighting amongst us! There is no need…….calm yourselves." Haldir spoke quickly in a whisper  
  
to Sycha, and she fought against him. Legolas pleaded to her with his eyes to calm down and  
  
Haldir finally let her go. She took two hesitant steps forward and spat at Boromir's feet and  
  
pierced him with a stony gaze. "and you would have forgiveness in my heart?! I would kill you  
  
where you stand would it not put me to your level!" She snatched up the two bundles at her  
  
feet and took the sword from Legolas, stalking away, leaving them in stunned silence. Aragorn  
  
shook his head at Boromir, while the four small ones murmured in sadness. Boromir,  
  
indignant, shook off Aragorn's grip, glancing down at Gimli. "What?! Would you have me  
  
believe that outfit was the least bit decent?!" Aragorn's voice was nothing short of disgusted  
  
as he walked away, past Legolas and Haldir. "What she is wearing is not indecent in any way.  
  
Who are you to decide anything……just be quiet now."  
  
  
  
"Sycha!" She ignored her name and continued to slide the braided cords over Morna's head,  
  
the two packs already thrown over Morna's back. She meant to leave quickly and presently.  
  
Aragorn stopped short when he reached arm's distance and said her name again. She moved  
  
to swing up to Morna's back and nearly fell to the ground as Aragorn caught her shoulder.  
  
"Will you stop and be not so stubborn as the men you so despise?!" She hissed something  
  
incoherent and stared at him. He met her eyes strongly, and smiled softly. "Please…..I beg of  
  
you to heed my words. The way you mean to take now is wrought with nothing good. The way  
  
we mean to take is no better, but may offer less of a danger. Please….come with us. Boromir  
  
will cause you no more trouble." She steeled herself and finally shook her head, seeing Haldir  
  
approaching. "Haldir, if you mean to join me, I leave now." Aragorn turned and met the tall  
  
elf's eyes. "Talk some sense into her, for I fear she may have gone mad. Do not let her do  
  
this." Haldir sighed deeply as Sycha turned and swung up to Morna's back. Morna half-reared  
  
and turned upon her hind legs, high stepping down the path. "I leave now!" Aragorn's eyes  
  
widened and he turned back to Haldir. "What does she mean to accomplish by going herself?!  
  
She cannot take on Mordor herself…..she cannot break the curse herself without Frodo!"  
  
Haldir's eyes stayed upon Morna. "She does not mean to, and she does not think she can do  
  
any good with the lot of you. She would bring undue attention to you as the darker creatures  
  
of this world know her for who she is and where she came from. She will fight it forever, but  
  
she is of Mordor and that cannot be denied….and you underestimate her power. She means to  
  
help Frodo by taking the attention of Mordor away from his approach…..she is as headstrong  
  
as your fair Arwen…you should well be used to this. The powers of Sauron would be well  
  
interested in her return and presence….this might offer some needed relief for your own  
  
journey" Aragorn's words failed in his throat and he simply sighed. Haldir called to her in his  
  
own tongue. "Do not travel recklessly, dear Sycha, for I will catch to you in short time." Sycha  
  
made no indication she heard him but Haldir knew she did. He clapped Aragorn upon the  
  
shoulder as he turned to walk back where he would claim his own steed.. "As your journey has  
  
long since begun, so hers begins…forgive her for her anger, it is something she has not borne  
  
well over the years, and it is her own burden to bear I fear…but pray we all meet some form of  
  
success….for sanity's sake if nothing else." 


	8. Reconsideration

Disclaimer: The great Tolkien owns all except for Morna and Sycha. They belong to me.  
  
Thanks for all the feedback. It is so greatly appreciated, and I welcome it all. Keep it coming:) It keeps me writing:) The next chapter will begin the actual journey, and a lot of the action. I want to keep it moving quickly, but certainly don't want to rush through anything.  
  
Sycha didn't ride far before she sat back sharply, causing Morna to slide to a stop. She shook her head sharply at herself, muttering gutterish phrases under her breath. Boromir's words had upset her tremendously. In dealing with the realms of men, she could never summon the patience to remain calm. Fury and rage always succeeded in setting its claws into her and making her act in ways she did not find comfort in. Morna nickered softly to her and stood patiently. Minutes passed and Sycha looked up to the sound of hooves. "Sycha!" Haldir's came to a stop while he regarded her. "We will meet up with them in ten days....we will ride along the river, under the cover of the woods, for we cannot obviously take horses on the boats. Her look was one of stunned confusion. "What....are you talking about?" Haldir smiled calmly at her and glanced back. "Sycha, we will not gain anything by gaining much time on them, nor is it wise at all to travel so far removed. By meeting up with them,  
we are able to be sure nothing has gone wrong in that time. At some point, we will part paths and our journeys will be separate, but it is not now." She bit down on her tongue to refrain from saying anything. She would never want to show disrespect to the elf who had had such a strong hand in her survival so long ago, and she trusted him as she only trusted a select few. His horse sidestepped toward her and he laid a hand on her arm. "Sycha, you need not talk to him, nor the others if you choose. But it is safer this way. I've no care of what you think you can take on yourself; for I know you've never been faced with any strife yourself. You have fought battles, but not to the extent that a throng of orcs would pose to you on a treacherous road........you've lived over three thousand years with the hope that this time would come....I'll not see you throw it away in a rash fury." She stared hard at him for a moment and then finally sighed. "Fine." That was all she said. She  
knew he spoke the sense that she lacked when she was angry. He studied for a moment and then smiled. "That's all?" She shrugged. "What else would you have me say?" He laughed softly and turned his horse back to Caras Galadon. "Well, if that is all the more fight you have in you, you certainly wouldn't have survived a day out there, even with me along." She rolled her eyes at him, and scowled. "Mean-spirited you are today, Haldir.....quite mean-spirited." He nudged his horse forward and laughed. "Ahh, just to make sure you keep a light heart, Sycha....you know I mean no harm." She murmured something not quite kind toward him and followed him back.  
  
They were to leave the next morning....at first light. Sycha and Haldir would take their horses along the paths of the river, while the others would take boats granted graciously to them by Celeborn. Sycha remained elsewhere in Caras Galadon, away from the eight that afternoon, even at the request of Galadriel on behalf of Aragorn and Legolas that she at least join them for a small while. She could not bring herself to be in Boromir's presence; and after she had calmed down, she felt a little foolish for acting as she did, almost embarrassed. Instead, she remained by one of the free flowing streams, nestled against Morna against the cooled breeze of the evening. She had long since fallen asleep when Haldir came across her, pulling a blanket from one of her bags and covering her with it. She stirred as he sat down next to her, leaning back against Morna as well. "Are you all right?" She looked up at him and nodded, sighing softly. "How are the others?" He nodded, wrapping an  
arm around her shoulders and taking some of the blanket for himself. "They are well....they have settled in preparation of tomorrow's journey.....they hope you are well....even Boromir." She gave him a puzzled look and watched a smirk play upon his lips as he settled comfortable against her. "I would say that after the others got done yelling at him about the stupidity of his words, he realized his folly. He had not quite been thinking when he had blurted out what he said. None wanted to seek you out today, fearful of your mood. They are a little uncertain about you, but they have a caring about you from your tale. They are good people, even the man of Gondor." She made a small, thoughtful sound, and nestled against his side, falling into a restful slumber.  
  
The following morning proved to be bright and windy. Haldir bade Sycha to join them for the morning meal, per request of Celeborn. She sat between Celeborn and Legolas, across from Gimli, and ate quietly. The conversation was light, and friendly. Legolas spoke to her softly, and finally succeeded in drawing her into conversation with Aragorn. Galadriel finally drew a close to the meal as the sun began to rise noticeably higher. The goodbyes were said with much warmth as Galadriel gave each of them tokens of kindness. Sycha went to fetch Morna and Haldir's midnight grey steed. At the water's edge, Haldir swung up to his horse's back and Aragorn approached Sycha as Galadriel said her final words to the others. "Be safe....both of you..." Sycha smiled softly at him and Boromir came to stand behind him. Her smile faded and Aragorn moved away quickly, joining Frodo in the one boat. For a moment, she thought he would simply turn and go. But then, he bowed to her. "Be our meeting  
in ten days a safe one.....fare thee well, fair one." She nodded to him and clasped his hand in a generous gesture. "And you, man of Gondor." He moved away and she bid Legolas an embrace before climbing up to Morna's back. She turned Morna and looked down to where Galadriel and Celeborn regarded her. "As always, I am grateful for everything.....I pray I will be able to visit again with happier tidings." Celeborn smiled and Galadriel came forward, taking Sycha's hand in her own. "You will....not without hardships along the way....but I feel you will make it through." She pressed a velvet pouch into her hand and stepped back. "You will know that by sight...if what I have heard from Thranduil is true.....it may come in useful; and you not find it outside of the forests of Mirkwood." Sycha tucked it into her bodice, an idea playing in her mind of what it was, catching Haldir's suspicious eye as she tucked it away. "I thank you," she murmured, urging Morna forward. She took one  
last glance back at the others as they began down the river. "We must be off, Sycha." She made a sound and Morna lunged forward into a gallop. Celeborn slid his hand into his wife's, squeezing it lightly. "Haldir will keep watch over her temper, I should think." Galadriel sighed softly and watched until they disappeared into the trees. 


	9. A Little Bit of Magic

Disclaimer: I don't own them, the great Tolkien does. But I do own Morna and Sycha  
  
Feedback is greatly, greatly welcome.....belethil@winterchill.com  
  
With the river Anduin on their left, they made good time the first day. Their ride was, for the most  
  
part, silent, and Sycha stayed to the off right of Haldir's steed. Evening set in and they rode until  
  
they could not easily pick their way through the uneven terrain. They found a small secluded  
  
clearing and set camp as the final light diminished from the trees above. Sycha easily found  
  
bushes around them still bearing the last of the season's fruits and brought them back, Haldir  
  
having pulled one of the loaves of bread from a sack pulled from his horse. They settled with the  
  
horses to their backs and ate silently, with no fire. Sycha had warmed a crystal she pulled from a  
  
bag and it gave off light akin to soft moonlight. They wanted no undue attention brought to them.  
  
"We will ride at first light?" Haldir nodded, seemingly craning his neck to listen to the woods  
  
around them. "Do you think orcs would be about?" Haldir looked over at her. "Of course, but I fear  
  
more for what else there might be." Her eyebrows furrowed and she glanced about. "I should not  
  
think of anything else that would be a real threat.....at least here." Haldir handed her another  
  
chunk of bread and glanced around yet again. "Legolas and Gimli spoke at length of what was  
  
told at the council held in Rivendell. Who once had been our ally, has now joined league with your  
  
father's realm. Do you know of Saruman?" She nodded. "Of course, he is the lead of the White  
  
Council....Gandalf has spoken of him at length when he has visited Mirkwood on occasion. I have  
  
not ever met him, though." Haldir nodded. "Was the leader of the white council......but at any  
  
rate, Gimli spoke of Gandalf's tale of great orcs...Saruman's `master race'; orcs that do not know  
  
fear of daylight." Her eyes widened and she nearly laughed. "I'm sorry....just it seems that  
  
anything is possible anymore.....so Saruman is breeding a master race now.....sad that I am not  
  
surprised...." She sighed and drew her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs.  
  
"Let us hope we do not come upon them then....or that I might at least have time to prepare..."  
  
Haldir looked up at that. "On the matter of that....I have two questions that I might hope you  
  
answer." She rested her chin upon her knees and nodded, smiling kindly. "Of course...I have no  
  
need to keep secrets from you." He handed her the rest of the bread and sat back. "I've known  
  
you for a long as you care to remember life....and I have seen you much of that time as well....I'm  
  
curious of the powers you possess." She cocked her head. "I'm not sure what you mean?" He  
  
motioned around him. "I've not ever seen you exhibit anything more than simple sorcery....I am  
  
simply curious as to what you are capable of?" She was quiet for a moment, and lowered her  
  
eyes to the ground. "I would venture that you are curious because no one has ever really seen  
  
me exhibit grandiose power as my father and mother are so infamous for?" Haldir looked away.  
  
"In a manner of speaking....I've faith in you, please don't think I don't.....but I believe the only one  
  
to have ever seen you practice is Elrond?" She nodded slightly. "And Thranduil...for I practiced  
  
much in Mirkwood.....as much as he is known for having such a hard persona, he was always  
  
quite kind and compassionate to me.....but I never gave him reason not to be.....but I digress and  
  
that does not answer your question. My father's power is of destruction, and of deception. My  
  
mother's power was of healing and enchantment. Unfortunately, I did not inherit my mother's  
  
innate ability to heal, and that I regret. I have power over the elements....much like Elrond has  
  
power over Imladris and its safety....I have minimal enchantment abilities, enough to fool lesser  
  
races...the race of men, maybe, but elves have always been able to see through my  
  
enchantments. It is hard to describe exactly what I can specifically do, for it has always been  
  
more of a visualization not set in stone. I have little sorcery that my father has, and I have  
  
compensated with elemental power." She paused, meeting Haldir's intent gaze. "But  
  
unfortunately, I have also inherited some of the lesser qualities of my `esteemed' parents.....my  
  
mother's weakness and my father's temper....as though that were not obvious.....My power  
  
drains me quickly....and I have never found a way to surpass that. As for my temper, we have all  
  
seen my exhibition of that. I think in my years, I have become better in keeping my tongue, for I  
  
was quite an angry young girl when I came to Caras Galadon, I'm sure you remember." Haldir  
  
nodded slightly. "But you never directed any of it toward any of us.....you were angry to yourself  
  
and only in your speech when you spoke of Mordor and your parents." She shifted and smiled.  
  
"Why would I have? I held no anger to those who saved me.....and Elrond knew well of my sharp  
  
tongue, for I was most comfortable with him and spoke quite freely at times on my past and my  
  
hatred for the wars.....but he always spoke softly on my need to calm myself; that I did myself no  
  
good by riling myself. I keep his words close, for I would only be likened to my father were I to let  
  
my anger better me." Haldir laughed kindly. "And for that reason alone it would be folly for any to  
  
liken you to him.....you must let go sometime....those that matter in your life know you for what  
  
you truly are....and you should be content with that." She shrugged and was quiet for some time.  
  
She looked up finally and smiled a sad smile. "Have I answered your question, dearest Haldir? If  
  
not, I will do what I can to elaborate." He shook his head. "No....you have said enough....but I  
  
would ask one favor." She cocked her head, and said in jest, "In addition to your second  
  
question? You ask much of me, fair elf....." He laughed, and motioned around them. "Show me  
  
something.....anything....I've not ever seen your power....I've always been most interested."  
  
Even in the dim light, he saw the high blush rise on her cheeks and she hesitated, finally drawing  
  
gracefully to her feet. She looked around for a time, then, and walked past where Haldir sat. He  
  
stared at the glowing crystal on the ground until she returned, folding her legs beneath her as she  
  
dropped back to the ground. She held a branch broken off of one of the bushes she had plucked  
  
berries from earlier. He watched her, fascinated, as she held up the branch and released it. It  
  
stayed in the air, hovering of her accord for a moment. She held her hands out and with a grace  
  
that could never be taught, breathed upon that branch, her fingers moving in some silent spell.  
  
The small green leaves upon that branch began to change shades of color, brightening into  
  
shades of reds and yellows, as though the autumn wind had graced them early. The berries  
  
detached themselves and she caught them all as they fell slowly, the leaves following. Haldir was  
  
motionless, watching whisps of her breath curling about the branch and changing it. Once the  
  
branch was bare, she raised one hand over it and motioned subtlely, and it suddenly became  
  
transparent. She blew softly, and he realized then that it had changed to ash, and she blew it to  
  
the ground, partaking it back into the earth it had come from. She turned back to the berries and  
  
picked up her forgotten piece of bread, folding it over in her hand. She closed her eyes and blew  
  
again upon her hands knelt forward, opening her hands in front of Haldir. He took the bread,  
  
surprised that it was warm; even more surprised that what he bit into tasted like freshly baked  
  
cranberry bread, as thought he handmaidens of Galadriel had baked it only moments before. He  
  
laughed brightly as she sat back, and shook his head at her. "I am most delighted.......though I  
  
envy the meals Elrond must have partaked of due to your expertise." She smiled sadly, and blew  
  
down upon the crystal, its light brightening instantly. "I thank you for your kind words, dear  
  
Haldir.....but, I believe you have yet something more to ask of me?" He finished the bread she  
  
had given him, simply stunned at it's pure taste, and nodded. "What did Galadriel give you?" Her  
  
expression changed, and it seemed a shadow fell over her. Her hand came up to rest upon her  
  
bodice, beneath which lay the silk pouch she tucked there. "Herbs and leaves of the further  
  
reaches of Mirkwood......which might prove useful at some point." By her expression, he knew  
  
she would say no more. She smiled then, and rose, stretching lightly. "Have I answered  
  
everything that you would have of me this eve, then?" He laughed and nodded. "Of course....and  
  
I would think we should rest.....if we are to ride at first light." She laid down then, next to him,  
  
leaving Morna to keep watch over them as the night passed. 


	10. A Tragic Error

Disclaimer: I own Morna and Sycha. The great Tolkien owns the rest.  
  
I welcome any and all feedback, email, and IM's. I do not have the next chapters written, and  
  
would well welcome any and all ideas from the wonderful people who have written to me and  
  
reviewed. Thank you to all who have supported this fic.....belethil@winterchill.com  
  
First light came and the day passed. The wind picked up again later in the next day, bringing with  
  
it a misty rain that was more annoyance than help. There was more than one time, they both  
  
thought they heard something fell carried upon the wind. Because of this, they rode through the  
  
night, into the eighth day of their journey. Conversation was sparse, filled more with hushed  
  
whispers than anything. Hours after night had fallen that evening, Sycha bade Haldir they stop for  
  
the night. "Haldir, we are resilient, but you must realize we need rest.....even yourself." He  
  
relented and they made a hasty camp for that evening. It was damp and cold, which made for a  
  
fitful sleep, filled with dark and disturbing dreams for her. Some time before dawn, she awoke  
  
with a start. Sitting up, she looked around; Morna was fast asleep as was Haldir's steed, his long  
  
grey head draped over Morna's withers. But she did not see Haldir. Rising slowly, she scanned  
  
the dark trees, apprehension building quickly in her muscles. Morna stirred slowly, hearing her  
  
mistress's movemements. "Haldir?!" The first night he had gone off, but it was not like him  
  
considering the uncertainty of what was around them now. The sounds they had heard during the  
  
day, carried to them on the changing wind, had not done much for a feeling of security. They  
  
were the sounds of movement and rustling, and occasionally what she had called a growling  
  
sound. She moved past the horses, stepping quietly over some of the larger brush. "Haldir!?" She  
  
called again, as loudly as she could without breaking a harsh whisper. There was no answer  
  
except the wind and the misting rain. She would be far glad when they were off of the water's  
  
vicinity, and away from the resulting breeze. She wandered as far as she dared, searching what  
  
little she could see. `Haldir, answer me, please!" She heard a movement above her and jumped  
  
back, sprawling as her foot tangled in the overgrowth. Haldir bent over her, having jumped down  
  
from the tree he had been in, two fingers pressed tightly over her lips. "Be quiet....there is  
  
movement that is not too far from us and it is difficult to see through the darkness, even with  
  
elvish sight for there is no moon to aid me." He helped her up as she nodded and held fast to him.  
  
"What do you think it is?" He fixed her with a withering look. "What do you think? Orcs, of course."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. As close as they were, the extended travel and lack of rest had begun to  
  
wear upon both of them. She sighed and he glanced back. "My apologies...come, we will sleep in  
  
the trees." She nodded and let him help her up the steep climb. It had been ages since she had  
  
done this, and she had never become that proficient in climbing trees....though now it seemed  
  
odd to her that she hadn't. She searched, once Haldir had her settled securely against him,  
  
through the trees to see for the horses. She could see nothing, really, and gave up. She knew  
  
Morna would well handle anything that came along.  
  
She woke to Haldir's fingers lightly pressing against her collarbone. "Wake, Sycha, we've need to  
  
be on our way....something has passed near us not too long ago...pray we do not come across it  
  
or them as we go." She nodded and they made their way quietly and nimbly through the trees,  
  
her hand tightly woven into his. She was concentrating on her footing when he stopped, and drew  
  
her close, pointing down. "We slept there.....but something is wrong...." She peered through the  
  
trees, and could not see the horses, nor the packs. She felt her chest tightening, as she searched  
  
for the horses. "Morna...." She had faith in the great mare, but it was not like her at all to run off  
  
unless the need arose. Sycha let go of Haldir's hand, and moved herself over the branches.  
  
Haldir watched her, minding that she did not slip or fall. He looked down again, the sickening  
  
feeling that something was very wrong. That feeling increased tenfold as he saw Sycha begin to  
  
clamber down the tree. "Sycha!" She dropped to the ground and ran headlong; his eyes followed  
  
her to her destination and clamped a hand over his mouth. He shook off the initial shock and  
  
dread and moved over through the trees with all of his years of skill. She ran headlong, fighting  
  
the urge to scream and fell to her knees at the fallen body of Haldir's steel grey steed. She paid  
  
no heed to any possibility of danger around her, sheer terror filling her. The steed had been  
  
rended nearly to pieces by what she guessed to be a jagged sword or maybe an axe. She closed  
  
its hazed, still-open eyes, and rose, drawing the dual swords she carried upon her back. She  
  
scanned the area around her, and realized she had made a sudden, horrible error; she had  
  
fallen into a trap. She heard the glinting sound of steel behind her, and ducked, turning as she did  
  
so. An orc, the kind of which she had never seen before, lunged past her. She managed to  
  
riposte back and behead him with one fell movement. She turned on her heel in time to see three  
  
more moving toward her. Haldir, in this time, dropped from the tree, and that was all she knew.  
  
Two more orcs came forth to her right and she fell into the fight; relying on her will to survive and  
  
her power. She turned earth to mud, slowing the great orcs that surrounded her; enabling her to  
  
finish off four more, her quickness keeping her from sinking. Screaming in the dark speech of  
  
Mordor, the guttural sounds issuing from her throat seemingly surprising the last two orcs that  
  
surrounded her, she rended the first and sliced through the neck of the second, falling to her  
  
hands and knees as the second fell, and her ears were met with a sickening silence then. Upon  
  
her third breath, she threw her head up, yanking her arms from the mud. Haldir's bow lay where  
  
he did not and her breath caught in her throat. Pulling herself forcefully from the ground, wincing  
  
as a growing pain grew through her side, she stumbled across the ground and dropped down to  
  
Haldir's fallen body. Sheer desperation filled her as she pulled him up, cradling his head upon her  
  
lap. "Dearest Haldir! Please! Open your eyes.....you cannot leave me!!" He shuddered, and his  
  
eyes came open, fixing and focusing upon her. She looked over him, coming to the sick  
  
realization that there was a great amount of red mixed through the mud that covered him. He  
  
moved, slowly, lacking the grace that she had always admired in him. He smiled softly, and  
  
glanced around. "Twas a good fight, dear Sycha.....bad luck that I got caught in the earth." She  
  
whimpered, guilt washing over her. "Oh Haldir....please...where are you hurt?" He drew himself  
  
up and winced, gasping softly. She slid her hands over his sides, finding a rather harsh gash  
  
upon his lower left side, stretching across his back. There was another cut above his left eye, but  
  
not so severe. She pulled a small dagger she kept at her thigh and began to shred her cloak,  
  
gently binding his wounds. "Don't you leave me, Haldir.....don't you dare." He shook his head,  
  
pushing his now soaked hair from his face. "Elves don't die so easily, Sycha....least of all me."  
  
She moved to bring him to his feet, and stumbled, falling back to her knees, sucking her breath  
  
through her teeth. "I should say I am not the only one hurt, dear." She reached her hand back,  
  
feeling the split in her bodice, and looked down. Her wound stretched from her side across her  
  
midsection, thin and deep. The deeper pain came from her thigh, where an orc's axe had come  
  
down upon. She rose again, and summoned enough power to dry some of the earth, allowing her  
  
enough traction to stand up and draw Haldir to his feet. "Ah, we are a pair....I'd not think we  
  
would be able to take another attack, though." She moved then, bringing him with her. "Haldir, I  
  
have not seen Morna.....have you?" He shook his head, leaning heavily upon her. "I've not.....I  
  
should think she would have fled....unless they would have taken her. Her stature alone would  
  
have been enough for them to try to take her for their own use....." Sycha pushed that thought  
  
from her mind, and concentrated upon making some sort of distance. There was little hope of  
  
scaling a tree to gain the protection height would give them, given their collected conditions.  
  
"Haldir, what distance do we have left to where we would be meeting the others.....we are to  
  
meet them tomorrow....we have made good time." Haldir nodded, peering ahead. "We need to  
  
make it toward the river.....the land is leveling out, and we should be rather close...close enough  
  
to reach the shore and......rest for a bit." She slowed and looked over at him. He had a hazy look  
  
in his eyes and he had paled; if elves could pale. "Haldir.....we will make it....I'm sorry I'm not  
  
able to heal you....I'm sorry I caused this." He shook his head, taking a shuddering breath. "Oh,  
  
don't start.....you are not the cause of this....you did what was needed. We will make it....all will  
  
be well in the end." She was not so sure of his words, but concentrated on moving toward the  
  
water, wondering darkly what became of Morna, and missing her in the process. 


End file.
